What is the Point of a Wish?

curling pale pink and wrapped in green the shimmering desert heat slips through the center to pull firm upon their canvas brick by brick he builds her his breath hot against her hip all she can think of is his hands the warm comfort of his hands thrust finger-deep inside the pages of their story knowing this was forged before time Together they replenish the words that tell the tale of those dearly loved locked deep under the depth of stratus layered thick upon their shoulders dropped upside down and smothered in a bright chromosphere spilling vitalism into every speck of creation